


Huddled in the Dark

by masked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ......???????????, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season 9, Sex, dean and cas frick fracking, eyyyyyyyyyyy, it's just a burn on the hand nothing too serious, mentions of Hael and Meg and April and Crowley, oh my god nsfw is hard to write, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masked/pseuds/masked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel can't work a stove.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Huddled in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'spn prompt thing' of Fire.

He remembers the heat. 

Its overpowering presence licked at him at the first step into Hell. He shone brighter and bigger to clear his path of it, only the mission to rescue the Righteous Man in his mind. Once he did reach Dean Winchester, he burned a mark against his crippled soul as he gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.

He remembers the ring of flames that trapped him.

They imprisoned him and accused him of wrongdoing. Panic flared in his chest which he had never felt before he was corrupted by two boys and an old drunk, and its presence scorched his self-righteousness. He said anything to excuse his actions, to let them see this was the only way, to break out of the holy flames that held him. The desperate gaze Dean and he exchanged just before Crowley had arrived was one scene he had engraved on the back of his head, a constant reminder to never repeat the same mistake again.

He remembers the rage that blinded him.

To claim that he, _he_ , needed protections, that he was helpless sparked the fury in his chest, and only grew into a flame that consumed him as she fed it kindling after kindling ( _"I will tell them where you are. And they will hunt you. Until their last breath, they will seek revenge on the angel that did this, who_ destroyed _Heaven."_ ). He warned her to stop, and she did not. So he stopped her in turn.

And now he stands in front of the stove, coddling his burnt hand against his chest as he drops the pan with a loud clank. 

"Cas?" Dean rushes to his side from the library and takes his hand for a better view. "C'mon, buddy." He pulls Castiel along. He hisses as the water touches him and Dean holds him in place as he runs his hand against the cold water which numbs the pain. 

He stares at the hand ( _his_ hand) as it turns a bright shade of red against the white current. He can feel Dean's eyes studying him, but he ignores them. 

"You all right?"

"Fine." He replies, unable to mask the bitterness.

"You gotta be more careful, man." Dean tuts, reprimanding him as if he was a child. He is possibly the only human who would dare to tut at an angel, Grace or not. It's infuriating and Castiel almost wishes he could go back to the days when he still held a sliver of fear over _the_ Dean Winchester, before the Apocalypse.

"I was unfazed by the fires of Hell once." Castiel states, his voice hushed but angry and harsh against his ears. "Now I can't operate a simple stove without burning myself." 

Dean turns off the faucet, and turns Castiel's hand over, checking for any other injury. "Yeah, well. Congratulations on being human, Cas. Welcome to the club."

"I used to belong to a much better club once." Castiel scowls.

Dean stills at the words, and Castiel wonders for a split second if he was too insulting. He's contemplating whether to apologize for being insensitive or not when Dean squeezes his hand with his own.

"Cas, listen to me." Dean says, stroking Castiel's hand with his thumb. "Whatever happens, we will figure this out. Okay?"

Dean locks Castiel's gaze with his own intense green eyes as he waits for a response. Empty promises held over his head shouldn't do anything for him, but when they came from Dean Winchester, they always proved to be fulfilled promises in the end. He believes him.

Even if it is a lie, he still believes in him.

"Okay." He lets out with an exhale. He lowers his gaze to Dean's lips and their fingers interlocked together. His throat clicks as he swallows, his mouth suddenly a little too dry.

He remembers the burning lust as she kissed him.

First, there was the demon with the female vessel. It was wild and disorderly, and everything an angel was not. Then there was the reaper who possessed April. Being human, he did not realize at the time the foolishness of letting his guard down in front of a stranger, but she had shown kindness when he was vulnerable and he drank it all up, quenching his thirst. 

With Dean, it is different.

Lust is present, but it is not the foundation for the burning need Castiel feels as he stands in front of Dean. There is a steady flame that have undoubtedly wavered in the past with the passing winds, but as it grew, the wind only served to empower the little flame, evolving it into a much bigger being. He fought against it at first, but like a wildfire that grew stronger and bigger as time went on, it is an unstoppable and inevitable force which Castiel doubts even God could stop at this rate. 

Castiel now finds himself alone in the kitchen of the Men of Letters' bunker, inches away from Dean, wondering if the fire will die out at last if he soothes it, or if this will be another gust of wind that encourages its flames. 

"Dean." He says, his lips almost brushing against Dean's. "I need to kiss you."

Dean's eyes widen in surprise, the golden flakes around his iris catching the light of the fluorescent light bulb. His eyes roam and search for any signs of false claims, and Castiel waits impatiently.

Finally, after a second that seemed forever, Dean carefully asks, "Are you sure?"

It is a simple sentence, but Castiel hears the unspoken questions. ( _Are you sure about things between us changing? Are you sure you want me? Are you sure you need_ me?)

He answers them all with no hesitation. Perhaps he has always known it. "Yes."

Without further ado, Dean takes the final step and closes the distance between them, locking Castiel's lips with his own.

It is chaste and maybe a little shy, painfully so for the Righteous Man and a former Angel of the Lord. As they pull apart, Castiel already misses the soft warmth against his lips still tingling from the affair. He chases after Dean, and the second time they kiss, it quickly turns into a crazed frenzy as teeth are grazed and tongues are involved. 

Castiel is practically carried to Dean's room as they undo the buttons on each other's pants and push themselves into the room. Dean fumbles with the lock while he tries to not break the kiss. They let out a laugh as they find out shedding their clothes without breaking apart proves to be far more difficult than they initially figured. 

Castiel mouths Dean's throat, licking and sucking on the quickened pulse as Dean ghosts over Castiel's sides, running his hands gently as if scared of breaking Castiel.

"Dean." He growls out. "Touch me."

He hears a sharp inhale, and like a broken dam, Dean's hands are all over his body. They graze his nipples, grasping onto his biceps, holding onto Castiel as if Dean's life depended on it. Castiel loops his arms around Dean's neck and wedges one of his legs between Dean's, and Dean shamelessly buckles against it, a moan escaping his lips. He slides Castiel's boxers off and palms Castiel's ass, gripping them tightly and pulling him closer. 

Soon their cocks are slotted together and they fumble around, both still new at this but wanting it all the same and making it up as they go until they settle into a steady rhythm, Castiel's forehead pressed against Dean's shoulder as tiny pants are punched out of him with each thrust. He knows he's close when the warmth starts to overwhelm him and the pure ecstatic eagerness takes hold of him, his body no longer in his control.

He bites down on Dean's shoulder when he comes, letting the fire engulf him in its flames. Dean chokes out Castiel's name when he follows soon after.

They both slump to the ground, legs shaky from holding up each other's weights. Castiel leans on Dean's shoulder, sleepy but content.

Dean nudges him gently. "Cas, don't fall asleep." He whispers, playing with locks of Castiel's sweat damp hair. "The bed is right there."

Castiel mumbles out a reply, more of an annoyed grunt than anything. Dean huffs and reaches for one of their shirts, dabbing the come off their stomachs. Castiel curls up into the cozy warmth emitted from Dean, snuggling up against his chest as he nuzzles him gently with his nose. 

Dean snorts but doesn't complain. If anything, he coils around Castiel, resting his chin on Castiel's head. Castiel listens as Dean's heartbeat lulls him into sleep.

"Is this okay?" he mumbles, maybe a little frightened to hear the answer after all this.

Dean only curls around Castiel tighter. "Yes."

The fire steadily burns.


End file.
